He explained the wings on his back and arms represented protection; the roses on his chest he just liked the look of; the skulls on his right bicep showcased his many wins, though there weren’t enough skulls to represent that accurately, and the crown on the back of his right hand represented the title he hadn’t lost yet.
“Most of these I got when I was young. And full of myself,” he joked.
“Which one is your newest?”
He pointed to the black ink that took up the entirety of his right arm, cutting off at his wrist and serving as a background for the skulls and wing higher up on his bicep.
“What does it mean?”
“I attempted some DIY tattoos once and wanted them covered. Trust me when I say I’m not artistically gifted.”
I laughed a little and looked at his arms again, following the snake wrapped around his left arm with my eyes before I asked, “Which one was the most painful?”
I realized what I said when the last word left my lips, and instantly wanted to take it back.
His brows furrowed slightly and his smile faded. But then he lifted the left side of his black shirt, revealing the face of Medusa. It was a beautiful piece, blending with the roses on the left side of his chest and traveling the entirety of his left side. It continued down his hip too, and further beneath his jeans.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
“No, you’re fine... It actually was my most painful. Rib tattoos hurt like a bitch.” He tried for a smile but it wavered as he looked down at it again. “It’s, uh... I got it for my mother.”
Sofia. One of the sweetest people I had ever met. She was so warm and welcoming the first time I was in Dean’s house. It was hard to believe someone treated her badly.
My mind went to Dean’s father, Gio Calacoci, a man with a criminal history of his own who killed himself three years ago. It would make sense for him to have been the one to harm his wife – most statistics say it is always the husband. I wondered if that was why they didn’t share a surname. Maybe Dean would rather have his mother’s maiden name, Moretto, than be reminded of someone who hurt her.
I remained quiet though. Simply listening.
“Kira was right about what Medusa represents for women and men... I got it as a tribute to my mother’s bravery after...some stuff that happened.” He didn’t have to say anything else for me to understand but it explained why he was so protective.
“She’s a survivor,” I said quietly. He lowered his shirt again and I moved closer, kneeling beside him. “Stay here tonight.”
“Isn’t your neighbor stoppin’ by in the morning?”
I nodded but stepped off the couch, holding out a hand to him. “Yes, but considering it’s almost three o’clock, you may as well stay over.” I shrugged. “You could answer the door to her if you want.”
A lopsided smile came to his face as he accepted my hand and stood, towering over me before I led the way to my room.
We lay on the covers, talking quietly for a little while longer about trivial things that we would probably forget in the morning. My eyelids were growing heavy fast, and his smell was comforting enough to drift off to.
I must’ve dozed off for a moment because I was woken by the sound of Dean turning the lamp off. He reached over me carefully to do it, propped on his elbow. When he lowered himself back to the bed, I rolled onto my side to face him, tucking my hands up under my head as I closed my eyes again.
Without a thought, I mumbled, “Why me?”
He paused, and I swear held his breath too before he said quietly, “I like how I am when I’m with you.”
Chapter 51
Lily
Right on the dot of 8 AM, Susan would’ve lifted her fist to knock except the door swung inward before she had the chance. She slapped her suspended hand back to her chest with a gasp at what she saw; a six-foot-three, heavily tattooed Italian man standing in the doorway. His black hair was a little disheveled and his shirt only buttoned halfway up.
“Hello, Susie,” Dean purred, leaning on the doorframe with his arms above his head. “It’s good to see you again.”
“M-my word,” she gulped, eyes bulging as she stared up at him, recognition leaving her speechless.
Dean told me he had a run-in with a Susan while waiting for his mother after a bingo game. When I told him my nosey neighbor went to bingo games with her husband, he grinned. Even more eager to answer the door when she came knocking.
He dropped his arms and stepped forward. Susan took a hasty step back as she fumbled with her bag.
